


tricks or treats

by thepsychicclam



Series: domestic series [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Halloween, and Derek and Stiles are dealing with rambunctious Pack kids, a preteen crisis, PTA meetings, and a six year old's meltdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tricks or treats

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a 2-3k one shot, not 17k. Apparently, the nano muses ran away with me. Plus, I just had so much fun writing Patrick and Evie older, and plus, finally, a longer fic with Gil!
> 
> Just FYI, here's a list of the Pack kids (bc even I had to make a list, and I created them :P)  
> Derek/Stiles: Patrick (14), Evie (12), Gil (6)  
> Scott/Allison: Emily (16), Ryan (14), Kyle (10)  
> Isaac/Sarah: Millie (19), Nick (17), Josh (14), Nina (9), Lily (6)  
> Hopefully that will help :D
> 
> Enjoy some (late) Halloween/fall domestic! <3

“Guess what I’m doing today?” Derek asks Gil. Gil stuffs his mouth full of cereal, some grain, fruit, and oats blend Derek found that the kids actually _liked_ despite it being good for them. Gil’s cheeks are puffed out, and though Derek would never tell him, he bears a striking resemblance to a chipmunk. 

While Derek waits for Gil to swallow, Stiles comes muttering into the kitchen. His hair is sticking up in different directions from where he slept, he’s got on pants, a t-shirt, and one sock, and he distractedly passes them both and heads to the laundry room. Gil twists in his chair to watch him until he disappears. When he turns back to Derek, he says, “DD isn’t good with mornings, is he?”

Derek chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee. “No, no he’s not.”

“Where’s my shirt?” Evie yells as she runs through the kitchen. “DD, have you seen my shirt?”

“Gotta be more specific,” Stiles tiredly replies.

“The blue one with the thing!”

“So helpful.”

“DD!”

Derek tunes out the other two as he sits at the kitchen island, directly across from Gil. “Can you guess?”

“Delivery!” Gil exclaims.

“Exactly. And you know what that means.” He smiles as Gil lifts his milk bowl. “No, tadpole, don’t – “ But it’s too late. Gil is slurping the milk from the bowl, and it’s running down his chin and onto his shirt. “Gil! How many times have we told you not to drink from the bowl?” Derek sighs as he walks around the table and hooks his hands under Gil’s arms just as Gil puts the bowl back on the countertop. 

“It’s so yummy!” Gil says as Derek sets him on the carefully on the floor. Gil’s got milk all over his chin, and the front of his t-shirt is wet. 

“You’re a mess!” Derek wets a paper towel, squats down in front of Gil, and cleans the milk off his face. “You’re gonna be sticky and stinky.”

“Am not,” Gil giggles as Derek cleans a bit of milk under his chin. 

“Arms up,” Derek instructs, and Gil lifts his arms so Derek can tug the soiled shirt off. “I’ll find you a new shirt. What do you get to do?”

“Make your delivery sammich!” Gil says excitedly, and Derek can feel his happiness wafting off him. Derek tickles his bare skin lightly, causing Gil to bend over in laughter, then he presses noisy kisses to the side of his face. “Daddy! Stop! I gotta make your sammich!”

“And I’m gonna get my messy boy a new shirt.” Gil goes to the refrigerator as Derek steps into the laundry room to check on Stiles and Evie. Stiles is searching through a laundry basket while Evie looks through the clothes in the dryer. Derek moves close behind Stiles, rests his hands on Stiles’ hips, and noses along his hairline. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Stiles says distractedly. “Ah ha!” He lifts a blue shirt with jewels and sparkles out of the basket. “Success!”

“Ugh, you’re the best, DD,” Evie says, grabbing the shirt and nuzzling against Stiles’ briefly before disappearing.

“You seem overly tired this morning,” Derek says. He drops a kiss behind Stiles’ ear.

“Weird dreams,” Stiles says, turning around to face Derek, “and just generally restless all night.”

Derek frowns, traces his thumbs along the lines beside Stiles’ eyes, then across the darker skin beneath his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “Just one of those nights.” Derek kisses him, and Stiles sags his weight into him. Derek holds him up, supports his weight as he lazily explores his mouth, not bothered that Stiles hasn’t brushed his teeth yet. It’s not like he’s had time to brush his yet, either. When they break, Stiles places his head on Derek’s shoulder and inhales. 

Derek hears small footsteps running across the kitchen, then stop in the doorway. “Do you want a sandwich too, DD?” Gil asks. Stiles raises his head and nods. Derek can feel Gil’s pure joy even as he runs away again. A few months ago, on a busy morning, Gil had made Derek a sandwich for one of his deliveries, which he makes for Stiles’ shop when people request their orders be shipped to them. Derek had told Gil it was the best sandwich he’d ever had (because it was rather tasty), and since then, he’s always made Derek’s sandwiches for him on delivery days.

“Why is Gil shirtless?” Stiles asks.

“Spilled milk on it. I was on my way to grab another one in his bedroom.” Derek steps away from Stiles and heads towards the stairs. 

On his way to Gil’s room, he passes Patrick’s room. He sticks his head in to check on him since he hasn’t heard him yet. Patrick is still sprawled on his bed on his stomach, one leg and arm hanging off the side, the covers kicked to the foot of the bed. His mouth is hanging open and half-pressed against the sheets. “Patrick!” Derek yells into the room. “Up, kiddo! You’re gonna be late!”

“What?” Patrick sits up and rubs his eyes. “I’m up. I’m up.”

“You should have been up twenty minutes ago,” Derek states.

Patrick yawns and stumbles out of bed. His resemblance to Stiles in the morning is scary. “I’m going,” he says, grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor.

“Clean jeans,” Derek says, pointing to the closet. 

“They’re mostly clean,” Patrick protests as he drops them and goes to the closet.

“No wrinkled shirts. Only clean socks. And change your underwear,” Derek says before walking down the hall. Fourteen year old boys, he thinks.

He finds a clean shirt for Gil and hurries downstairs. Gil is putting the sandwiches in their lunchboxes when Derek returns to the kitchen, and Stiles has a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in another. Evie is eating cereal at the kitchen island.

“Come here,” Derek says, squatting down again. Gil runs over to him, bumping into Derek’s leg before he has a chance to stop. Derek helps Gil put on his shirt, and then he runs his hands through Gil’s dark hair where it’s messy. Derek then sends him to the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth.

Stiles checks over the lunches Gil’s packed. “Look at this.” Derek looks where Stiles is pointing. There’s a sandwich, an apple, bag of carrots, some crackers, and a bag of cookies. Sprinkled on top of it all are cookie crumbs.

“Little cookie monster,” Stiles laughs. “Gil!” he shouts, heading towards the bathroom, still only wearing one sock. “What did we say about eating the cookies when you pack the lunches?”

“How’d you sleep?” Derek asks Evie as he takes the stool beside her.

“Good.”

“What’s going on at school today?” Evie gives Derek the rundown of what is supposed to happen at school, and Patrick finally appears in the kitchen. His shirt isn’t wrinkled, and when he passes, Derek turns his head and inhales.

“It’s all clean, Dad,” Patrick says as he fixes himself a bowl of cereal.

“Just checking,” Derek says.

He sits and talks about the upcoming school day with Patrick and Evie while Gil helps Stiles find his other sock and his shoes upstairs. 

*

Three large SUVs park side by side in the dirt parking lot. Derek gets out and walks behind the vehicles, standing beside Allison and Isaac as they watch the entire Pack file out of the SUVs. “This is gonna be a disaster,” Isaac says as he watches the loud, rambunctious group. Millie, Nick, and Emily are standing away from their younger cousins, Emily and Millie talking while Nick texts. Patrick, Josh, Ryan, and Kyle are grouped together, shoving each other playfully and laughing. The sheriff and Stiles are counting heads as Sarah holds on to Lily and Gil’s hands. Melissa’s with Nina and Evie, helping Nina fix her wolf costume, and Chris and Scott are trying to get the boys to stop rough housing.

“It’ll be fine,” Allison says with a smile. “There’re enough adults and older teens here that hopefully they will behave. Plus, we have two Alphas.”

“I’m worried about those four,” Isaac says, pointing to Patrick, Josh, Ryan, and Kyle. They’re yelling and jumping up and down. Derek doesn’t ever remember being that hyper; he just doesn’t understand it.

“I need to know which tickets to get,” Derek says. “Find out what everyone wants.” The three of them separate to make a list. When Stiles says Evie and Patrick want to go through the haunted trail, Derek shakes his head. “I’m not going.”

“Why?” Stiles whines. “It’ll be fun.”

“No. No way. You know my feelings about haunted houses.”

“It’s not a haunted house,” Stiles points out. “It’s a haunted trail.”

Derek glowers at him. “Same difference. I’ve seen enough horror in my life that A, I don’t want to see anymore and B, that stuff isn’t scary.”

“You’re no fun.” Stiles pushes his shoulder lightly. 

“Pop-pop, wanna do zombie paintball with me?” Patrick asks.

“Yeah,” Evie exclaims. “Please? It’s gonna be so awesome.”

The sheriff smiles and puts an arm around each of them. “Sure. I used to be a damn good shot. Guess I can find out if I’ve still got it.”

“Dude, count me in,” Stiles says. 

They all look at Derek, and he shakes his head. “Nope. Not doing it.”

“Why do you hate Halloween, Dad?” Patrick whines, shaking his head. “Halloween is the best.”

“If you’d seen what I’d seen, you wouldn’t want to purposefully see that stuff,” Derek says with a frown.

“DD likes this stuff, and he’s seen as much as you,” Evie says.

“Your dad has issues,” Derek says flatly.

“Hey, Scott!” Stiles yells. Scott turns his head from where he’s surrounded by his kids. “Zombie paintball?”

“Heck yeah!” Scott grins widely. He glances towards Isaac. “You in?”

“What do you think?” Isaac states. “Millie, Nick, and Josh are doing it, too.”

“Allison?” Scott asks. 

She nods. “I’m not letting you have all the fun. Dad, you in?”

Chris shakes his head. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Someone with some sense,” Derek mutters, and Stiles pushes his shoulder again.

“Shut up, you stick-in-the-mud.”

Allison and Isaac bring the ticket numbers to Derek, and he counts them up and writes them down. The Pack walks towards the entrance to the farm, and they remain outside while Derek goes inside to purchase the tickets. Patrick follows him. 

“You’re okay with us going into this stuff, right?” Patrick asks as they wait in line. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Derek shakes his head. “No. There’s no sense in you not having fun, DD either, just because it bothers me.”

Patrick frowns as he studies Derek carefully. He hesitates, then says quietly, “I’m sorry about the stuff that happened to you when you were younger.” Patrick leans closer, brushing against Derek’s arm. Derek can feel him wanting to say more, so he drags his fingertips along the back of his neck.

“I’ve dealt with it,” Derek says, squeezing Patrick’s neck. “DD has helped a lot, and I’ve helped him, and you kids have made all the difference in the world.” He looks down at the ground, at his black boots and Patrick’s scuffed Chucks. “The day you were born was the day I finally accepted that there was something good to live for.”

Derek can feel Patrick’s emotions flowing from him, and Patrick doesn’t say anything, just pushes closer to Derek. “It still doesn’t mean I want to voluntarily go into a haunted attraction.”

“Not even zombie paintball?” Patrick asks, and Derek looks at him, smirks and raises an eyebrow. “For me?”

“Not a chance, kiddo.”

Derek buys tickets to the attractions, and the total is a ridiculous sum. He hands over his credit card as Patrick’s eyes widen at the cost. After Derek hands out the tickets to the Pack waiting outside, Allison and Isaac try to give him money, but Derek refuses to take it.

“But Derek,” Allison says, “I don’t expect you to pay for my kids.”

“I know my tickets weren’t cheap,” Isaac says. 

Derek holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Keep your money. My treat.”

“Derek,” Allison protests.

“You can buy the kids a treat or something,” Derek says. “Just enjoy it. Look at it as the Alpha wanting to take care of his Pack.”

“Scott’s the Alpha, too,” Allison counters.

“Then, this Alpha wanting to take care of his Pack.” He puts an arm around Allison’s shoulders. “I want to do this for everyone, so just enjoy yourself, okay?”

Allison smiles and kisses Derek on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“Now, go shoot some zombies. Please put Stiles, Scott, and Isaac to shame.”

Allison grins mischievously, and puts a hand on her hip. “They have no chance against a Hunter’s daughter.”

She joins the large group getting ready to walk to the zombie paintball line, so Derek approaches Sarah, Melissa, Chris, Nina, Gil, and Lily. “Are we all doing the flashlight maze?”

Gil grabs Derek’s hand and holds up his flashlight. “I’m ready.”

“I’m going to get some cider, some apple bread, and sit beside the bon fire,” Chris says. 

Melissa shakes her head. “Spoil sport.”

“I’ve spent enough time walking around in the dark,” Chris says. “I think I’ve earned some cider, apple bread, and warmth by the fire.” Melissa watches with a smile as Chris walks into the store.

“I guess it’s just us then,” Sarah says. She bends down to look at the three kids. “Should we break into teams and see who can make it through the maze the quickest?”

“Yeah!” the kids exclaim. 

“I’m on Grandma Melissa’s team!” Nina proclaims, grabbing Melissa’s hand.

“I’m with you, Mommy,” Lily says.

Derek glances down at Gil, still clutching his hand. “Guess that leaves you and me, tadpole. You okay with that?”

Gil nods. “I like being on your team.” 

“Good. I wanted to be on your team.” Gil grins. 

Inside the corn maze, Gil stays really close to Derek’s side. Derek lets him hold the flashlight and choose which way they turn at each junction. “This is really scary, Daddy,” Gil says after they’ve been in the maze for awhile.

“It’s not supposed to be scary,” Derek says. “What’s scary about it?”

“The dark is scary.”

Derek swoops down and lifts Gil into his arms. “What do you think I would do if anything came at you in the dark?” he asks. Even with the lack of light, he can see Gil’s face clearly, but he knows Gil can’t see him well. He reaches out and touches Derek’s cheek, so Derek lets his eyes glow red. Gil’s face breaks into a smile.

“You’d protect me because you’re the Alpha Daddy.”

“Exactly,” Derek says. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Nothing is going to get you, and if it did, you’re with me and I would never let anything happen to you.”

Derek lifts Gil up so he can sit on his shoulders, and Gil rests the flashlight on Derek’s head as they navigate the darkness. 

They are the last ones out of the maze; Sarah and Lily were the first. Derek lowers Gil carefully to the ground. “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” he tells Gil.

Gil shrugs. “I don’t care,” he says. “I would rather walk through the maze with you than win.” Derek ruffles his hair and tries to contain the smile on his face. 

He’s sitting with the sheriff and Chris by the bon fire when Stiles comes running up to him. “Dude,” he says, eyes bright and smiling. “That was awesome.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Derek nods. 

Patrick and Evie arrive then, laughing. “You should have seen DD,” Evie laughs.

“He shouted and hid behind me twice.” Patrick doubles over laughing. “He was so scared! Even Kyle and Emily weren’t that scared, and they’re always scared at this stuff.”

The sheriff shakes his head. “Really, kiddo?”

“It was terrifying!” Stiles exclaims. “It was freaking _awesome_.”

“Totally awesome,” Patrick agrees, and Evie nods. “Though not as awesome as paintball.”

“Paintball ruled,” Evie says. “DD sucked, but Pop-pop was a _beast_.”

Derek glances over at the sheriff with his eyebrow raised. “Really?”

The sheriff looks smug. “I haven’t lost it,” he says. “I’ve still got it. I’m awesome.” Derek laughs.

“Aunt Allison was also amazing,” Evie says in amazement. “She’s the best. I told her she has got to teach me some of her hunting skills.”

“Just what you need,” Derek says, “claws and a hunter’s training.”

“She’d be able to beat off any guy who looked at her wrong,” the sheriff points out.

Stiles nods. “It’s settled. Allison’s teaching you.”

Sarah and Melissa take the younger kids home while the rest of the adults and older kids hang around. There’s a movie playing in the back field, an old classic 1930s horror film - _Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy_ , something, Derek didn’t pay attention. Most of the Pack has started in that direction.

“Pop-pop, will you watch the movie with me?” Gil asks quietly. He’s standing at the sheriff’s knee, holding on to the leg of his jeans. 

“Well, how can I resist after someone like you asked?” the sheriff asks, tickling Gil’s tummy. Gil’s face lights up, and the sheriff stands and takes Gil’s hand. He looks at Patrick. “You coming with us, kiddo?”

“Please, Patrick?” Gil asks, turning those large, round hazel eyes on his brother. Derek snorts. The kid may be six, but he knows _exactly_ how to work his older siblings until they’re putty in his hand.

“Sure.” Patrick runs a hand over Gil’s head, and Gil pushes into the touch. Derek can’t help but feel proud when Gil does little things like that, things that are more werewolf than human. 

“You want to come, Chris?” the sheriff asks. 

Chris shakes his head. “Nope. I’m content here by the fire. Allison’s supposed to be around soon to join me, and I think Emily is bringing me another cup of cider.”

“Suit yourself.” The sheriff leads Gil towards where the rest of the Pack is sitting, while Evie runs up to join Josh and Ryan where they’re playing Corn Hole.

“Isaac,” Stiles yells when he sees Isaac walk towards the kids, “Fancy a game?”

Isaac narrows his eyes. “Are you challenging me to Corn Hole?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles exclaims, running towards Isaac. Derek gets up and follows. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Well, you are better than me at shoving things into holes,” Isaac says too quietly for the kids to hear when Stiles passes him. Derek glances at Evie, Josh, and Ryan – they’re not paying attention to them anyway. Evie and Ryan are in a heated game, and they’re yelling at each other while Josh laughs on the sidelines.

Stiles punches Isaac in the shoulder. “I’m not the one with five kids,” Stiles says.

“I didn’t get an Alpha male werewolf pregnant three times,” Isaac states.

Stiles throws his hands up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!” He points his finger at Isaac. “I reiterate. _Five kids._ ”

“You’re both virile, sexually superior beings,” Derek drawls as he stands on the sidelines, between the two small corn hole boxes. “Now, shut up and play.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Isaac rolls his eyes, and Stiles snickers. The game goes normally for awhile, and Derek starts to get bored. Evie, Josh, and Ryan have run off, over to the playground by the sounds of it, and he can sense Gil, Patrick, and the Sheriff watching the movie with some of the other Pack members. 

Then Isaac makes a surprised noise, and Stiles bursts out laughing. Derek looks between them curiously. “Ass! You did that on purpose!” Isaac yells as he bends down to grab his bean bag.

“I didn’t,” Stiles laughs, “I swear. It slipped.”

“Slipped my ass,” Isaac says. He chucks the bag at Stiles, pelting him in the stomach. Isaac smirks when Stiles doubles over. “Payback.”

“Ow,” he groans. “Fuck you, dickface.”

“Baby.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles throws the bean bag with all his might, hitting Isaac in the face. He pumps his fist into the air.

“You’re dead, Stiles!” Isaac shouts, and when Isaac rears his hand back to throw the bag at Stiles, Stiles squeaks and runs to hide behind Derek. Derek rolls his eyes fondly. “Seriously, Stiles? You gonna hide behind your husband?”

Stiles sticks his head out from behind Derek’s arm. “Hell yeah, I am. He’ll heal in three seconds. I’ll have that bruise on my torso for a week.”

“Lame!”

“Human!”

“You two are idiots,” Derek says. 

“Punish him,” Stiles says. “He injured me.”

“You’re the idiot who got into a corn hole fight with a werewolf,” Derek says. “Suffer the consequences.”

“Why are you so cruel, Derek?” Stiles asks, and Isaac laughs. After Isaac and Stiles call a truce, Stiles convinces Derek to go through the flashlight maze with him despite having gone through with Gil already. 

The moment they turn down a dead end, Derek grabs Stiles’ arm and pulls him close. “Pretty sure we’re not supposed to be doing this here,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s mouth when he leans in to kiss him. Stiles opens his mouth, meeting Derek’s tongue when he slides it across his lips. Derek keeps one ear focused on the sounds around them, listening out for anyone who might approach them. 

Derek kisses his way down Stiles’ neck, and tugs the collar of Stiles’ shirt and coat away to suck a mark into the place where his neck and shoulder meet. Stiles moans quietly, his hips pressing against Derek. Derek grumbles quietly against Stiles’ skin, the light friction pleasant with his mouth on Stiles’ skin.

“I, ah,” Stiles starts breathily, and his knees sag a bit more as Derek bites the side of his neck. Stiles’ hips are grinding against his now, a slow, smooth motion that’s causing them both to harden slowly. “I’m not sure this is what we should be doing.”

“Why?” Derek asks, kissing along the underside of Stiles’ jaw. He nips at his chin, then takes it into his mouth.

“Because we’re in public,” Stiles points out, as Derek kisses his way up the other side of Stiles’ face, “the whole Pack is close by, and we have our kids with us.”

“Mmmhmm,” Derek hums against his temple. Stiles might be protesting, but his hips are still thrusting against him slowly. “So responsible.”

“Derek,” Stiles whines, gripping at the shoulders of Derek’s leather jacket. “I don’t want to come in my pants and have to ride home with my two werewolf adolescent children. They’re old enough to know what that smell is now.”

Derek takes a step away, Stiles almost falling when he goes to rub himself against Derek and he’s met with nothing. Derek kisses his mouth again, and just focuses on that while keeping a safe distance between them. He threads his fingers through Stiles’ hair, gripping it tightly as he tilts Stiles’ mouth for a better angle. Stiles scratches his nails through Derek’s beard and slides his hands into Derek’s hair, massaging his scalp as he kisses him.

They don’t break apart until they hear someone walking their way, and Derek’s just glad it’s dark so it conceals their half-hard cocks, kiss-swollen lips, and disheveled hair and clothes. They just stand there against the edge of the corn, panting and trying to get a handle on themselves, for a few moments. 

“Screw the rest of the maze,” Stiles says. “Let’s go home. I think we have um, unfinished business to tend to.”

“Good idea,” Derek says. 

They right their clothes and run fingers through their hair as they backtrack through the maze. When they exit, Stiles asks, “Do we smell like sex?”

Derek inhales, and says, “Kinda.”

“Great.”

“We’ll distract the kids with cider and donuts,” Derek says. “Maybe they won’t notice.”

“I like the way you think.” Stiles leans over and kisses Derek again, and Derek has to force himself to pull away and keep walking. He appeases himself with the idea that he gets to undress Stiles very very soon.

*

Stiles is talking to a customer when the front door of the store bursts open, the sound of the little bell drowned out by a cacophony of voices. Stiles winces when the door hits the wall and at least five adolescent voices all talk at once, seemingly trying to outdo the others.

“Excuse me,” Stiles says to the customer, then turns to the group of rambunctious cubs. “Volume!” He exclaims, raising his voice slightly. Five werecubs turn their heads sharply towards Stiles and abruptly stop talking, while the human siblings continue talking until they catch on.

“Sorry DD,” Patrick says. 

“Yeah, sorry,” the rest of the Pack mumbles. 

Stiles rolls his eyes fondly and turns back to customer. “Sorry about that,” Stiles tells her.

She smiles knowingly. “I understand. I have two at home. Are they all yours?”

Stiles laughs incredulously as he glances back at the eight cubs clustered together at the front of the store. “Oh god, no. Three of them. That one,” he says, pointing to Patrick, then follows with Evie and Gil, “that one and that one. The other five are cousins.”

One by one, the kids file behind the counter as Stiles finishes selling the woman a mixture of supernatural healing herbs. He hears a series of thumps as they drop their school bags on the floor in the back room, and then they return to the store. Emily comes to stand beside him, her nametag attached to her shirt, and Gil peers over the edge curiously as he watches Stiles bag the herbs.

“Measure out one ounce of this,” Stiles tells Emily as he points to a jar in front of him. She nods, and then pulls on plastic gloves and uses the metal scoop to carefully measure out the delicate leaves. 

“Can I help?” Patrick asks, a sudden solid wall of heat against his back. He’s so tall even at 14 that he can comfortably hook his chin over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Yeah, me too?” Kyle presses against the other side of Stiles’ back. He’s only 12 and shorter like Scott, so he sticks his head between Stiles’ arm and Emily.

“Don’t jostle me!” Emily snaps at her brother.

“I didn’t!” he replies.

“I wanna help, too, DD!” Determined not to be left out, Evie crowds beside Gil, pushing him closer against Stiles. Stiles glances down at him to make sure he’s not being smushed in this sudden wolf pile. Gil has his hands curled on the edge of the counter, finger poking at an herb stem that has fallen from a jar. Stiles should have known he’d be unfazed; by now, he’s used to being crowded in the middle of a Pack pile. The warmth and weight of all the bodies around Stiles feels comfortable and familiar, a normal occurrence in a Pack full of adolescent werewolves, even if it’s annoying when he’s in the middle of work.

“Seriously?” Stiles says, exasperated. “If you wanna help, there’s some stock in the back and the store needs to be swept.”

“Sweet!” Kyle runs into the back, and Evie crosses her arms on the counter and pouts.

“Sweeping sucks.”

Stiles turns back to the customer. “Sorry. They’re a bit…enthusiastic.”

She grins, eyes flashing yellow. “Pack cubs, I get it.”

Stiles laughs. “At least you’re a werewolf. Try being the only human adult around sometimes.”

“You sound like the humans in our Pack.”

“I can package this one for you!” Patrick reaches for a jar, but Stiles grabs his wrist.

“Think before you grab.” Stiles points to the label on the jar, and Patrick’s shoulders slump.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Last thing I need is for you to be handling wolfsbane.”

Patrick starts to walk away, but Stiles twists around and grabs his arm and pulls him close. He knows his kid well enough to know he’s not only disappointed he can’t help, but also embarrassed that he didn’t notice the wolfsbane. Stiles quickly rubs his cheek and nose against the side of Patrick’s head. “None of that now.” Patrick nuzzles quickly into Stiles for a quick second, growling so quietly Stiles almost misses it. “There’s some online orders you and your sister can package for me.”

“Cool.”

Emily helps Stiles finish scooping and labeling, and Stiles lets Gil bag them for the lady. Stiles talks to her about their respective Packs for a few moments after her transaction is finished, and she tells Stiles to tell Derek and Scott to contact their Alpha sometime and leaves the Alpha’s cell phone number.

After she leaves, Emily starts cleaning behind the counter since she’s actually on the shop’s payroll. Stiles takes a moment to breathe. As much as he loves them and being around them is comforting, the Pack cubs are overwhelming when they all come at him at once.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks, knocking Nick’s leg affectionately when he notices him perched on top of the back counter for the first time. Nick’s scrolling through his phone, but he pushes his leg against Stiles’ side when he approaches.

“Texting.”

“New girlfriend or boyfriend?” Stiles asks.

Nick looks up, blushing. He looks young in that moment, much younger than seventeen. “Potential boyfriend. We went on a date the other night. It was fun, and we’ve been texting ever since.”

“Heartbreaker,” Stiles teases. Nick has a different boyfriend or girlfriend every few weeks. With Isaac’s curls and eyes, and Sarah’s facial structure, the kid is a knockout. He has people flocking around him all the time, despite the fact that usually humans are repelled by werewolves. “You gonna work or just sit there and text?”

“Didn’t sign in. I’m gonna text,” he replies without looking up from his phone. Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“Thanks for picking the kids up from school,” Stiles says later as he puts away the jars on the shelves along the wall. “I can give you gas money.” Since Emily and Nick are the only two with driver’s licenses, they pick up the Pack cubs half of the days of the week. Sometimes they take them to one of the houses, other times they drop them off at Stiles’ store, like today.

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily says, smiling her dimpled smile. Nick is too engrossed in his phone to pay Stiles any attention. 

Stiles is in the backroom cutting herb leaves when he hears a crash and an “uh-oh.” He rushes into the front room to see Josh, Patrick, and Kyle standing around a broken jar. He goes over to Patrick, frowning. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Patrick yells, hands up. 

Josh punches him. “Snitch.”

“I’m not a snitch!” Patrick punches him back, and Josh touches his arm and doubles over in pain.

“ _Owwwww_ ,” Josh breathes. “Human here!”

“I didn’t hit you that hard.”

Stiles runs a hand over his face in frustration. “How many times have I told you not to run and horseplay _in the store??_ ”

“We didn’t do nothing,” Kyle says, batting puppy dog eyes at him.

Stiles isn’t impressed. “I know you three. Clean it up. Next time, I’m taking it out of your allowances or making you work off the debt – this stuff isn’t cheap, you know.” He sighs and supervises as the three boys clean up the mess. When they’re finished, he says, “I got some new liquid stuff back there that might entertain you. When you pour it out, it smells gross.”

Patrick scrunches his face, but Josh’s face breaks into a wide excited grin. “Really?”

“Yeah, and you can roll it around like putty,” Stiles adds.

“Cool!” Josh spins and runs toward the back room, and Patrick follows, trying not to look excited. After Stiles gets them settled, he checks on the rest of the Pack. Kyle followed Patrick and Josh into the back room, Emily and Nick are still in the front, and Gil and Lily are playing with a pile of dolls behind the register. He looks around for Evie, but can’t find her anywhere.

“Patrick,” Stiles asks, poking his head through the door, “Have you seen your sister?”

“Upstairs in your office, I think,” he replies distractedly as Josh pushes his smelly, gooey fingers in Patrick’s face. The mixture they’re playing with smells like bottled farts, but Stiles will deal with the smell if it will distract them long enough for them not to break down the store. It’s a daily battle with those three, really. And today, Ryan isn’t even with them.

Stiles jogs up the narrow stairs to his office. It’s a large room that covers the width of the top of the store. A desk with a computer on top is by the window, a minifridge and microwave sit along one wall, and a couch and an armchair are caddy-cornered in the back across from a mounted TV on the wall. Lying curled on her side watching TV is Evie.

Stiles frowns when he sees her. Hiding away alone in the office isn’t her style. He stops by the couch and studies her carefully. She doesn’t acknowledge him in any way, despite the fact that she would have heard him the moment he opened the downstairs door. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“Fine.” Her tone is dull, and she doesn’t sound fine at all.

Stiles runs a hand over her hair and combs his fingers through some of her curls. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I said _I’m fine!_ ” she snaps, her voice taking on a growl around the edges. Stiles sighs.

“Anything I can do?”

“No.”

Stiles leans down and drops a kiss to her head as he squeezes the back of her neck. She leans into the touch slightly, and a small smile tugs at Stiles’ lips. He turns to head back downstairs and leave Evie to herself. He’s halfway down the stairs when he hears Evie say, “DD?”

Stiles jogs the steps again. “Yeah?”

“Think Emily or Nick could drive me home?”

Stiles looks at her with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just want to go home.”

“Yeah, I’ll get someone to take you home.”

She gives him a weak smile. “Thanks.”

As he descends the stairs again, he texts Derek. Because his eyes are glued to the screen, he manages to trip on the last couple of stairs. 

**_When will you be back?_ **

**_Half hour probably Why?_ **

**_Something’s going on with Evie and she wants to go home_ **

**_I’ll be there soon_ **

**_Think I’ll get Em or Nick to take her_ **

**_K_ **

Stiles walks up to Emily and waits until she finishes ringing up a customer. When she’s done, she turns to him. “What’s up?”

“Did you notice anything…off about Evie today?”

Her face scrunches. “No. Is she okay?”

Stiles glances at the ceiling, worry niggling at his mind. “Don’t know. Just not herself.”

“Want me to go talk to her?”

Stiles shakes his head. “But can you take her home?”

Emily smiles softly. “Of course.” 

Stiles throws an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a half hug. “Thanks.”

Nick and Emily take the cubs home, but Gil remains with Stiles. Stiles gives Patrick and Evie direct orders to finish their homework and chores before he comes home, and he hopes they actually hold to their word. While they wait for Derek to return, Gil helps Stiles finish shelving inventory by handing Stiles jars from the boxes and placing things on the low shelves. 

“This is nettle!” Gil exclaims, holding up a jar. 

“Sure is, buddy.” Stiles ruffles his hair affectionately.

Gil picks up another jar and peers at the contents inside. “Althea.”

“Yep. You’re getting good at this!”

“I like playing with plants with you and Patrick,” Gil says as he places the jar on the shelf. 

“We like it when you play with plants with us, too.”

They’ve almost finished with the box when the bell on the door chimes. Stiles glances over his shoulder, and Derek is striding toward him. Stiles can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face. Derek’s wearing old, faded jeans that are somehow tight and kinda loose at the same time, and they hang lower on his hips than usual. His black Henley pulls snug across his chest, shoulders, and biceps, and Stiles knows he will never be tired of seeing Derek in those shirts. His beard has turned a sexy salt and pepper, and his hair has a bit of grey at the temples that Stiles loves to touch. 

Stiles turns back to the shelf and glances down at Gil, who’s holding up a jar. Two arms slide around Stiles’ waist, and then he feels a wall of heat against his back as Derek nuzzles into his neck. Stiles laughs incredulously. “Well, hello.”

“Hi,” Derek mumbles against Stiles’ neck. His scruff tickles Stiles’ neck lightly and his lips brush against the skin of Stiles’ neck, then he kisses behind Stiles’ ear. He remains there, his weight sagging into Stiles, and drops his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Everything okay?”

“Traffic,” he mutters. 

Stiles chuckles as he reaches back and pats his head. “My poor baby.” Derek grunts in response.

“Hey Daddy,” Gil says, turning his face up so he’s staring up at Derek. “I’m helping do intory.”

Derek pulls away from Stiles and bends so he can scoop Gil into his arms. “You’re doing a good job, tadpole.” Derek starts kissing all over Gil’s face, causing Gil to squeal excitedly. 

“Wanna help with the higher shelves?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah!” Gil exclaims, grinning widely, his hazel eyes shining. Derek holds Gil as Stiles hands him a jar, then Derek lifts him slightly as Gil places the jar on the shelf. “Cool,” Gil says. Afterwards, he wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder. “I missed you today, Daddy.”

“Missed you, too.” Derek nuzzles into his hair and growls quietly. “How was school?”

Gil tells Derek about math and spelling as they ascend the stairs to Stiles’ office. When Derek gets to the top, he frowns. He stops and sniffs. Stiles glances back at him, brow furrowing. “What?”

“I can smell how upset Evie was.” Derek lowers Gil to the floor, and Gil remains by his side, watching him quietly. “Did she tell you anything?”

Stiles shakes his head as he shuffles through some papers on his desk. “No. Barely said bye when she left. Emily took her and Patrick home.”

“She’ll tell us when she’s ready,” Derek says, though Stiles can tell he’s not happy about it.

“Do you have the delivery paperwork?” Stiles asks. Derek pulls a rolled up stack of papers from his back pocket. Stiles skims over the PO and then goes to file it while Derek sits in the armchair in the corner watching television. Gil sits on the couch, humming quietly to himself as he plays with a few of his dolls and animals.

When Stiles finishes up the office work leftover from Derek’s delivery, they shut everything off in the store and leave, Stiles locking the door behind him. Derek grabs his hand and threads their fingers together as they walk down the sidewalk towards the car. “What do you want for dinner tonight?” Stiles asks casually, and they toss ideas back and forth on the way home.

*

Evie doesn’t say a word at dinner. Derek and Stiles keep exchanging glances, and no matter how much they all try to get her to talk, she won’t. She asks to be excused from helping Patrick with the dishes after dinner, and Stiles and Derek consent. 

“Has she said anything to you?” Derek asks Patrick while they load the dishwasher.

Patrick shakes his head. “No. She was fine after school. Then she started smelling really upset. I think she cried a little.”

Derek stares up at the ceiling and focuses intently on Evie’s heartbeat through the floor. She still smells sad, laced with a little something else he can’t quite put a finger on.

“Is it her period?” Stiles wonders aloud from where he’s putting together Gil’s lunchbox for the next day.

Derek shakes his head. “No. Plus, pretty sure if she’d have started her period, she’d have let us know. She’d need supplies.”

“Emily could get her supplies,” Stiles points out.

“I still hope she comes to us whenever she starts. It’s an important event for a girl.”

“We’re men,” Stiles states.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m extremely aware of that. But we’re her dads. I just hope that even though we’re not women, she’ll come to us.”

“Well, she did for bras and shaving her legs.”

“Can we _please_ stop talking about this?” Patrick cuts in.

Derek cuffs him affectionately on the back of the head. “You’re a werewolf, kiddo. Bodily functions shouldn’t bother you. They’re all natural and unavoidable, and we just have to live with our heightened senses.”

“Score one for team human,” Stiles chimes in.

“Believe me,” Derek continues, ignoring Stiles, “you’ll know when she starts menstruating.”

Patrick’s face scrunches. “That word is so…gross.”

“Such a boy,” Derek laughs.

“What’s menstating?” Gil asks. He’s sitting on one of the kitchen bar stools, kicking his feet against the island. He’s got two Barbie dolls, three GI Joe’s, a few My Little Ponies, and a pile of little green army men on the island. He’s currently making a Barbie ride on the back of a pony and knock over a set up of army men.

“This ought to be good,” Patrick mumbles and ducks when Derek moves to cuff him again.

“Um, well,” Stiles starts, scratching the side of his face. He glances at Derek, and Derek just shrugs. 

“I can explain it if you prefer,” Derek says.

“No, I got this,” Stiles says. He turns to Gil, who’s waiting patiently, his large eyes wide with curiosity. “Um, you remember how we talked about how boys and girls are made differently?”

Gil nods. “Evie doesn’t have a wee-wee like we do.”

“Exactly. She’s a girl and doesn’t have a wee-wee. And, well, because of that, her body does things that your body can’t. And Patrick’s and your body will do things that hers can’t. Which is totally normal and cool and like, isn’t nature awesome?”

In an effort to try and help Stiles, Derek walks up behind Gil and places a hand on his shoulder. “Menstruation – “

“ _God_ , that _word_ ,” Patrick says.

Derek continues, ignoring his son. “Menstruation is something Evie will go through, but we won’t. It’s completely normal, and it’ll start happening to her soon.”

“Oh, okay.” Gil picks up one of his ponies and a GI Joe, apparently satisfied with their answer. 

Stiles glances at Derek over Gil’s head and whispers too low for Gil to hear, “Well, that was easier than I thought.”

When the kitchen is clean, Derek and Stiles go upstairs to check on Evie. Stiles knocks tentatively on her door, and she sounds completely morose when she tells them to come in. She’s lying on her bed with her back to the door, earbuds in her ears.

Stiles crosses the room, sits on the edge of the bed behind her, and places a hand on her arm. He squeezes it gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Stiles glances at Derek and frowns. Derek steps closer, is bombarded with her sadness and frustration, along with that other scent. Derek drops a hand to her head and strokes her hair softly. “You’re not okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know you can tell us anything,” Stiles adds. “Even about girl stuff, like periods and discharge and stuff.”

Derek looks at Stiles incredulously as Evie rolls onto her back, face full of disgust. She says, “Discharge??”

“It’s normal!” Stiles exclaims. “I read about it.”

“You read about discharge?” Evie exclaims.

“I’m out of my depth here, okay? I don’t have a vagina, I’m not married to a vagina. You’re my only daughter, so you gotta give me a break here, okay? I gotta read about this stuff somewhere, because the one time I asked Scott, he just turned around and walked away, and I haven’t quite worked up the courage to ask Allison. I’m doing the best I can.” Derek sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t give me that look, Derek. You turned red every time I brought up girl things, like discharge. And you’re a werewolf!”

“It’s not like Laura and I discussed her discharge when she was alive!” Derek replies, voice rising.

“Guys, can we please _stop_ saying discharge now?” Evie begs. “I appreciate you trying, DD. I promise, if and when I start my period, or other weird girly gross things start happening, I’ll come to you.”

Stiles smiles. “That’s all I ask. We’re here for you, pumpkin, even if we’re not women.”

“I know.” She smiles softly.

“So,” Derek says, rubbing his fingers along her scalp, “what’s wrong?”

Evie sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know Stephen?” They nod in unison. Oh, do they know about Stephen. Stephen is a boy in her classes that she’d developed a crush on the first day of school. Almost every day, they have to sit through a rundown of what Stephen did that day. While Derek is glad his daughter still wants to share details of her day with him, he’s tired of hearing about this kid. “Well, a bunch of the kids are going trick-or-treating together,” Evie explains, “and a bunch of them are going, you know, as a couple or whatever. I found out on Facebook that Stephen asked Jenny Monroe to go trick-or-treating with him.” Her eyes well up with tears, and Derek wants to rip that kid’s head off his shoulders. 

“Oh pumpkin,” Stiles says, grabbing her hand and holding it in both of his. “I’m so sorry.”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m so stupid. He will never like me. I’m just not pretty like the other girls.” Now, the tears fall down her cheeks, and Derek wants to burn down the entire county. The Alpha and fatherly instincts are threatening at the surface, making his fangs press at his gums and his claws throb to come out. He hates that some boy made his daughter cry, that anything made her doubt herself. Derek knows Evie is beautiful, probably too beautiful, with her dark curls and Stiles’ amber eyes. But she’s also a werewolf, and humans recoil from that. It’s a survival instinct, the prey keeping away from the predator. Doesn’t mean that it’s any easier for his twelve-year old daughter to understand.

And suddenly, it hits Derek what the smell he couldn’t identify wafting off Evie was. It was heartbreak, or at least the twelve-year old version, insecurity, and self-doubt. She’s too young to feel any of these things – or at least he thinks she is. She’s only twelve, still a baby – his baby. As he looks down at her tear-stained cheeks, he knows she’ll always be his little girl no matter how old she is. The last thing she should be feeling is insecurity over some _boy._

Evie and Stiles both turn their heads towards him sharply. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s growling quietly, a deep constant rumble, and the tips of his claws are digging into his hands. Stiles points to his eyes. “What’s with the Alphaness?”

Derek closes his eyes and inhales slowly, trying to rein his anger and protective instinct in. Breathing in doesn’t help; the whole room reeks of Evie’s emotions. But when he opens his eyes again, his features have morphed back to normal. “Sorry.”

Evie smiles. “I can smell you too, you know.” She rubs her eyes, wiping away the last of the tears. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not,” Stiles says, and Derek’s so thankful for him in that moment. He’s so good at this, at talking to the kids, knowing what to say, or at least trying to say the right thing. Derek just gets angry, primal, and nonverbal. Just one of the many reasons he needs Stiles. “Don’t ever say that about yourself. Crying is okay. But look,” Stiles pauses as he moves on the bed until he’s sitting beside her, his arm around her. “You are beautiful. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your father, although that makes me partial. Well, that and you look just like me.” Stiles grins, and Evie rolls her eyes. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. That boy is stupid if he doesn’t see it, and he’s not worth your tears. No boy is worth crying over.”

“I don’t feel beautiful.”

“Look at your dad,” Stiles says, pointing to Derek. “He is undeniably the hottest man who’s ever walked the earth.” Derek rolls his eyes.

“He’s my dad,” Evie says like Stiles is stupid. “I don’t really look at him like that.”

“Trust me, it’s true,” Stiles says quietly, like he’s sharing an intimate detail. “And you have to know that you have attractive fathers. I mean, this whole Pack is ridiculously attractive. I feel inferior every time I’m around them. Like, have you seen Allison’s dimples or Scott’s smile or Isaac’s eyes or Sarah’s legs? Compared to them, I’m – “

“What your father is trying to say,” Derek cuts in, but then pauses. “Actually, I’m not quite sure what he’s trying to say.”

Stiles purses his lips. “That’s because you’re too blinded by your wolfy rage and instincts to clearly understand the fantastic paternal wisdom I’m imparting on our daughter.” He turns to Evie. “My point is, you have good genes, kiddo. Me and your dad, we’re hot.”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek says.

“Well, looks genes. Personality genes, you just got me,” Stiles teases. Evie giggles and rolls her eyes in familiar exasperation. “You’re beautiful, Evie. Don’t ever let anyone – boy or otherwise – convince you any different.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that Stephen is going trick-or-treating with Jenny.” Evie sags against Stiles, her head on his shoulder.

“I know it sucks. I was in love with Lydia Martin for years and she never noticed me. Even your dad didn’t notice me at first.”

“That’s because he was an annoying brat and kept saying he wanted me dead,” Derek says, smirk tugging at his lips.

“You were a total dick back then!” Stiles exclaims. “All black leather and brooding and shoving me into objects and threatening to kill me and – “

“Guys!” Evie interjects. “Focus? I’m having a preteen crisis. This is not the time to verbally make out with one another.” Derek chuckles and Stiles pinches her playfully.

“Point taken,” Derek nods.

“Do you feel any better?” Stiles asks. “Because if I do say so myself, this was some awesome parenting.”

“Oh yes, your convoluted conversation was ace,” Derek jokes.

“At least I didn’t wolf out,” Stiles retorts, then makes a face at him. Derek can’t help but smile.

“You both did what you do best,” Evie says. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, pumpkin.” Derek leans down and kisses her head as Stiles kisses her cheek. 

“Want to come downstairs and watch something?” Stiles asks. “Your choice. I’ll even let you pig out on candy and junk food.”

Evie nods, and Stiles climbs off the bed. They’re walking towards the door when Evie calls out, “Hey.” They turn around, and she shyly asks, “Can we do a Pack pile?” 

Stiles grins widely and Derek’s wolf rumbles contently. He’d like nothing more than to curl up on a pile of blankets with his family, surround them and make them feel safe and content. Maybe it’ll help loosen the knot in his chest.

“Heck yeah!” Stiles exclaims. “Hey, Patrick?” Patrick appears at the door a second later, holding Gil. Gil’s got his arms around Patrick’s neck and his legs around his waist, holding on tightly. Derek chuckles, but Stiles asks, “Were you listening outside the door?”

“Nope. I was in my room.”

“Patrick ran with me,” Gil says delightedly. “It was fun.” He laughs, and Patrick bounces Gil in his arms. 

“Patrick, I swear,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack with your brother.”

“I’d never drop him,” Patrick says, like the idea is horrifying.

“I know, but still.” Stiles walks towards the door. “Get the Pack pile ready. I’ll get the snacks.”

Patrick glances at Gil and grins. “Hold on, tadpole.” In the next moment, they’re gone, leaving behind only the sound of Patrick’s feet racing down the stairs and Gil’s laughter.

“Wait for me!” Evie jumps off the bed and flies by Stiles, who nearly loses his balance. Derek reaches out and steadies him.

“You think I’d be used to this by now,” Stiles sighs. 

Derek wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist and kisses his head. “Thanks.”

“For what?” 

“For being an awesome father to our cubs.”

Derek can smell Stiles’ happiness at the compliment. “I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?” He bumps Derek’s hip with his own. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“No, Stiles.”

“You’re lying. You get all hot and bothered when I do my dad thing. You like it when I show you I can take care of our cubs.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows, and Derek rolls his eyes. 

“You know they can hear you, right?” Derek hears Patrick and Evie’s affirmative responses downstairs and chuckles.

“Derek,” Stiles starts as he goes into his bedroom, “If the kids haven’t accepted the way we are after all these years, there’s really no hope. I can’t help that I have an amazing husband with an amped up Alpha werewolf sex drive.”

“Yes, because I’m the only one in this relationship with an overactive sex drive.”

“Oh, totally,” Stiles agrees. 

They change out of their work clothes, and Derek stands behind Stiles and lets his hands roam over Stiles’ chest, torso, and butt while Stiles searches through their drawers for something to wear. He finds a soft pair of cotton pants and shoves them behind him. “Here. Take your pants and control your amped up sex drive.”

Derek chuckles against Stiles’ neck and kisses the skin behind his ear. “Can’t help myself.”

“I know this bod is totally hot, but we have a preteen with a crisis downstairs. Priorities, Derek.” Stiles’ eyes drift shut as Derek runs his hands along his front, slowly over his nipples and then through the thick thatch of hair just above his briefs. He sags into Derek for a few moments, just enjoying the feel of Derek’s fingertips against his skin. When Derek finally pulls away, Stiles slips into faded plaid pajama pants and one of Derek’s old t-shirts while Derek pulls on the cotton pants and foregoes a shirt.

The kids are waiting on the pile of blankets when they enter the living room. They’ve moved the coffee table and laid out multiple layers of soft, cushy blankets they keep around just for this purpose. Evie is flipping through Netflix while Patrick and Gil sort the pile of junk food.

“You’re paying for our therapy later,” Evie says when they sink onto the blankets.

“Oh hush,” Stiles says, adjusting his pillow against the side of the couch. “You’re used to it.”

Derek adds, “You wouldn’t know what to do if we stopped flirting and touching each other.”

Patrick turns to them, scandalized. “That would be just…wrong.”

“I’m not even a wolfie and I’d be sad if you and DD didn’t act like you loved each other all the time,” Gil says. He’s surrounded by bags of chips and candy bars.

“See? No therapy needed,” Stiles says as Evie settles on a movie. It’s some romantic comedy. He holds in his groan. “Where do you learn to talk like that anyway?”

“Millie,” Evie answers as she tries to squeeze her way into the non-existent space between Derek and Stiles. They both shift to make room for her, and she settles between them. Patrick sits on his stomach next to Gil, his arm draped over Stiles’ legs so it’s touching Evie’s. 

Derek looks around at his family surrounding him, feels their closeness and happiness. He can feel Stiles just an arm’s reach from him, inhales his scent that smells like leaves underfoot and full moons and the warm caramel of years of memories. He notices that Stiles’ foot is pressed against his ankle, probably unintentional, and he can feel the warmth radiating from that one point of contact. He can hear the steady familiar beat of Stiles’ heartbeat, a constant lifeline in the back of Derek’s mind, a sound he could pick out from a thousand miles away, the single thing in this world that keeps him going every day.

Evie is a solid warmth against him, her body fitted snugly between him and Stiles. She has her head resting on Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles’ fingers are idly rubbing at her scalp. Derek can’t help the swell of emotion that overcomes him as he watches them. As he watches the movie, he thinks about how his little girl is growing up. She’s twelve now, and before he knows it, she’ll be a teenager and driving and going off the college. She’ll have boyfriends and everything that comes with that, and Derek’s not sure he’s ready. He still sees her as this tiny little thing, guesses he’ll always think of her as his little girl. The longer they lay together in the Pack pile, the less upset Evie seems. Instead of the bitter, sour smell from earlier, her scent is softer now, sweeter, like sunshine and citrus. 

His eyes fall on Patrick and Gil, still lying on their stomachs as they watch the movie. There’s a shared pile of candy between them, and Derek watches as Patrick opens up a bag of Reese’s Pieces and offers it to Gil before he takes any himself. Although he’s human, Gil acts with wolf instincts more than he realizes. He’s quiet, unlike his two older siblings, and intuitive, observant, and empathetic in a way Derek’s never seen. Derek never realized how much having a human child would change him until Gil was born, until every choice he made impacted this small, fragile life. He’d been overprotective of Evie and Patrick when they were small, but they were werewolves and he knew their limits. Although Stiles was a human, he was an adult and had learned how to adapt and take care of himself before Derek had fallen in love with him. But Gil…he’s so tiny, so fragile, so _human_. Derek wants to protect him from everything, sees the same instinct in Patrick and Evie as well. He knows they’d sacrifice themselves to protect him.

Patrick’s growing up, too; he’s fourteen now, just one year younger than he was when Kate happened. The thought of _anyone_ touching his son, manipulating him, using him – it makes him sick. He’d burn the whole world down if anyone tried anything with him. But Patrick isn’t like he was; there’s still an innocence to him, unlike the way Nick was at this age, the way Josh is now. He’s not even sure Evie will still be this innocent when she’s fourteen. Patrick is growing up into such a wonderful young man; Derek sees it in him every day. He’s gentle – which Stiles says he gets from Derek – and smart, sharp-witted, inquisitive, and fiercely loyal – which Derek thinks he gets from Stiles. He’s going to make a wonderful Alpha one day, probably better than Derek ever could hope to be.

He wonders if his mother felt the same way about him. If she looked at him and still saw her little boy, if she felt as he does about anyone touching him. Back then he was terrified of her finding out about Kate, but he wishes she had known, that she had done anything to save him. Being a parent has given him such a different perspective on what happened back then, and as Patrick approaches that age, it intensifies the shame and guilt and pain of what Derek did. Just imagining the same thing happening to any of his children – it sends him into a rage.

Evie and Patrick both turn to him at the same time, their eyes shining. “What?” Stiles asks, noticing. He glances at Derek, brow creased slightly. “Derek, what’s wrong?”

Derek shakes his head, shakes off his thoughts. “Nothing.”

“You smell upset,” Patrick says. “Angry and – “ He pauses, raises his chin slightly to sniff the air.

“Guilty,” Evie finishes.

Understanding flitters across Stiles’ face. He lifts his hand and slides his fingers into Derek’s hair. Derek’s eyes fall shut as Stiles’ blunt nails scratch against his scalp.

He opens his eyes when he feels a finger poke into his side. Evie’s staring at him. She looks concerned, and her face is filled with so much love and adoration that Derek has trouble breathing for a second. “Get out of your head, Dad. If I can’t be upset, you can’t either.”

Derek smiles and squeezes her leg. “Okay, pumpkin.”

They return their attention to the movie, but Derek can feel Stiles’ eyes still on him. He glances over at him, and Stiles is watching him carefully. Derek quirks an eyebrow, and Stiles mouths, _You okay?_ Derek nods, and Stiles lowers his hand to squeeze the back of Derek’s neck. Stiles leaves his hand there as they continue watching the movie.

Derek inhales deeply, anchors himself in the four heartbeats. He is surrounded by his family’s scent, and that makes everything right in the world. 

*

Stiles pushes Derek against the shower wall, his hands sliding along Derek’s slick skin. Derek’s lips are parted, and he’s breathing heavily, his eyes darkened with lust. It’s been a couple days since they’ve had a chance to be together, and Stiles has been itching to touch Derek all day. 

Each evening, they’d had too many things going on. Gil needed a pumpkin for some last minute project, so Stiles drove him around town looking for a small sugar pumpkin. Patrick wanted a costume for trick-or-treating, so they had all gone to Target, Party City, and the local Halloween store searching for three perfect costumes. Stiles had even bought him and Derek costumes, though Derek swore he wasn’t going to wear it. They’d gone to a restaurant for dinner, and by the time they got home, made sure Gil got a bath, and made the kids’ lunches, Stiles and Derek had both fallen asleep the moment they hit the pillow. Stiles had to work late the next day because a member of Satomi’s Pack had called and needed a priority order of herbs, so Stiles had rushed to put them together before he arrived at the store at seven. Stiles didn’t even get home until after eight.

Though they’d kissed and fallen asleep in each other’s arms each night, they had been too tired to do anything. His right hand barely took off the edge, so when they had gotten home at a decent hour today without any pressing things to do, Stiles had nearly dragged Derek into the bathroom. Not that Derek was complaining.

Stiles kisses Derek hungrily, moaning into his mouth when Derek’s knee goes between his legs. Stiles shamelessly ruts against Derek’s thigh as Derek’s fingers dance across his wet skin. Derek nips at his bottom lip and sucks it gently into his mouth as his fingers dip between Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles moans again as Derek’s finger lightly circles his hole. 

“Want to blow you,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s mouth.

“Then get on your knees,” Derek replies, his voice dark and grumbling. “Don’t have to ask permission.”

Stiles remains there rutting for a few moments, gripping Derek’s shoulders and breathing against his neck, before he carefully gets to his knees. Derek’s hands immediately go to his hair and Stiles braces himself on Derek’s hips as he mouths at the head. Derek’s groan is low and throaty, and Stiles glances up through the water cascading down his face to see Derek’s head thrown back against the tile, his neck long and exposed. Stiles’ cock throbs between his legs as he keeps his eyes glued on Derek, blinking the water out of his eyes every few seconds, and slides his lips around Derek’s cock.

Derek bucks his hips forward, and Stiles takes the length of his cock until it bumps against the back of his throat. Derek doesn’t apologize, just grips Stiles’ hair tightly and starts lazily thrusting in and out of his mouth. Stiles lets his eyes drift shut, focusing only on the heaviness and taste of Derek’s cock on his tongue. 

Stiles can tell Derek’s getting close when he starts to sag and his thrusts become uneven. Stiles wraps his fingers around the base of Derek’s cock, sliding along the shaft as Derek thrusts. “Fuck, Stiles,” Derek moans, and Stiles sucks more purposefully on the head as his hand works furiously along Derek’s shaft. After a few minutes, Derek thrusts a final time and comes down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swallows it, his hand still stroking Derek as his orgasm fades. Stiles sucks on Derek’s softening cock until Derek tugs on his hair, and then he lets it fall from his lips. 

He stands, licking his lips as he looks at Derek. Derek looks happy and blissed out, a faint flush covering his cheeks and ears. His hair is flat against his head, and Stiles loves him like this, vulnerable and relaxed and naked and wet hair flat against his forehead, the Derek only he gets to see. Stiles leans forward and kisses him, and Derek wraps his arms around him tightly. He returns one hand to Stiles’ ass and starts rubbing his hole again and wraps his other fist around Stiles’ cock. Stiles breathes heavily into Derek’s mouth, his moans lost as Derek’s tongue explores his mouth languidly. 

Derek fingers him lazily, his finger pressing in shallow and just enough to tease. Stiles is stuck somewhere between bucking into Derek’s hand and pushing back on his finger, and he can only rest his forehead on Derek’s shoulder and grip his arms to keep from falling onto the tub’s floor.

“Derek,” Stiles whines, “more, something, _please_.”

“Greedy,” Derek rumbles into his ear, the sound shooting straight to Stiles’ cock. He feels it twitch in Derek’s hand as he groans against Derek’s skin. “I want you to come on me.”

Stiles chokes out a whine and rolls his head back and forth on Derek’s shoulder. “Fuck, Derek.”

“Please, Stiles,” Derek whispers quietly, his lips brushing against the shell of Stiles’ ear. It sends shivers along Stiles’ spine, and he almost comes right then. Derek takes the lobe of Stiles’ ear into his mouth, sucks on it lightly before nipping at it. “Please.”

Hearing that word roll off Derek’s tongue _does things_ to Stiles. Hearing Derek beg and say please is in his top ten favorite sex things. And yes, he keeps a list that Derek is very _very_ familiar with. Derek makes his own notes on the side of Stiles’ list, which Stiles is okay with.

“Your turn to get on your knees,” Stiles says, and Derek presses a bruising kiss to his lips before lowering himself. He slides his hands down Stiles’ legs as he moves to his knees, his fingers lightly trailing along the sensitive underside of Stiles’ thighs and behind his knees. Stiles takes a moment to enjoy the feel of Derek’s large, wide palms running over his legs, the pressure of fingertips, and the sight of Derek on his knees, waiting and ready, before him. 

Derek’s eyes flick from Stiles’ face to his cock, and he licks his lips. Stiles strokes it slowly, watching the way that Derek’s eyes are glued to his hand. Stiles is mesmerized by Derek’s expression, the hunger and lust and pure animal _want_ etched in his features. Stiles swipes his thumb across the head, and Derek lets out a soft moan.

“I love watching you touch yourself,” Derek says. “Love the way your fingers look around your cock and sliding in your asshole as you finger yourself.”

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles groans, his fingers tightening around his length. “Your _mouth_.”

“Finger yourself,” Derek commands, and Stiles thinks Derek might kill him. Stiles grabs the small bottle of lube from the shower shelf, and removes his hand from his cock long enough to squirt some on his fingers. As soon as Stiles removes his hand, Derek leans forward and licks a long, wide stripe along the underside of Stiles’ cock. Stiles’ knees buckle as he kind of spasms, but Derek’s hands are firm against his hips, supporting him and keeping him upright.

“If you keep doing that,” Stiles breathes as he slips his finger back between his cheeks, “I’m going to come before I get to do all the things you asked for.” Stiles taps Derek’s cheek playfully. “Behave.”

Derek smirks, but he leans back on his heels again. Stiles resumes jerking his cock as he slowly pushes a finger inside of himself. He groans, the slight stretch feeling so _good_ combined with his hand around his cock and Derek’s palms against the back of his thighs. It’s been awhile since he’s done this to himself, hell it’s been a long time since Derek has done this to him. He leans back against the shower wall, trying to find a rhythm with both of his hands.

Derek’s hands slide higher, fingers dipping between his thighs and brushing lightly against his balls before Derek runs his hands over Stiles’ ass. Then, Derek slides his fingers along Stiles’ crack, pausing to rub around the rim. “Fuck, Derek,” Stiles whines, and Derek wraps his hand around Stiles’, stilling it briefly. Stiles opens his eyes and looks down at Derek, and Derek’s eyes are tinged red around the edges and _fuck_ , that will never not be hot. Derek slides his finger around Stiles’ hole, then he grabs Stiles’ hand and aligns their fingers and _oh. Oh_. 

Gently, Derek guides both their fingers inside Stiles, and Stiles can’t contain his loud moan. Derek’s finger is larger than his, and the feel of both of their fingers inside him…it’s too much. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Stiles babbles, his hand gripping his cock like a vice as he jerks off. Derek slowly pumps their fingers in and out of Stiles’ hole, and it feels _so fucking good_ , and he’s not going to last. His legs spread farther open, his hips bucking forward, and Derek just keeps burying their fingers deeper and deeper inside him. He opens his eyes again and glances down at Derek, his face upturned and waiting, and comes with a cry, clenching down around their fingers deep inside him as he paints Derek’s face in stripes of come. Derek doesn’t even blink, just watches hungrily as Stiles continues stripping his cock. When he’s finished, his legs give out and he slumps down, Derek catching him immediately.

Gently, Derek eases both their fingers from Stiles’ hole and wraps Stiles in his arms. He drops kisses all over Stiles’ face and hair, and Stiles can only breathe and tremble, curled into Derek’s embrace. When Stiles collects himself, he lifts his face. Derek has come in his eyelashes and caught in his beard. Stiles wipes it away, then drags his fingernails through the salt and pepper scruff. “You’re gonna kill me one day,” he says finally.

Derek grins, smug and content. “You’re so hot,” he says before he mouths along Stiles’ jaw, and Stiles lifts his chin, exposes his neck. “Your scent is all over me now. Smells perfect,” he murmurs against his skin, and Stiles trembles in his arms.

When they stand, Derek washes Stiles’ hair while Stiles runs a sudsy loofah over Derek’s skin. It’s soft, slow, intimate as they bathe each other, just enjoying being near one another and the feel of the other one’s skin beneath their fingertips. Stiles finds himself randomly dropping kisses along Derek’s shoulders and collarbones. He braces himself on the shower wall and rests his head on his arms as Derek washes his back. Derek kneads a tense chord in Stiles’ neck before moving his hands down, massaging the muscles in Stiles’ back, and Stiles feels himself relax with each firm push. Derek slides his soapy hands between Stiles’ cheeks, then gently washes his balls and his cock. 

Outside of the tub, they kiss as they dry each other off. Stiles starts giggling, and Derek laughs with him, and Stiles doesn’t even know what they’re laughing about and he doesn’t care. He’s happy, and Derek’s hands are all over him, and life is good.

They’re wrapped in two large fluffy towels, kissing slowly, when they hear banging on the door. Stiles groans, not breaking the contact with Derek’s mouth. “DD, we’re hungry!” Evie yells.

Stiles reluctantly pulls away. “Eat a snack. We’ll be done in a minute.”

“You’ve been in there _forever_.”

Derek chuckles and Stiles glares at the door. “We’ll. Be down. In a. Minute.”

“Gil is like, really really hungry.” 

“For the love of,” Stiles mutters in irritation. He wraps his towel tightly around his waist and throws open the door. Evie, Gil, and Patrick are all standing on the other side. Evie is staring at them, eyebrow quirked in a perfect imitation of her father. Gil is holding on to her hand. Only Patrick has the decency to look guilty. “What’s the rule about the closed bathroom door?”

Evie rolls her eyes, head following. Stiles knows _exactly_ who she learned that from. “Don’t bother you when the door is closed. It’s private Dad and DD time.”

“This is you,” Stiles starts, pointing to the kids, “bothering us.”

“You’ve been in there a long time.”

“Yeah, so?” Stiles retorts. Yeah, he’s so smooth. He’s unable to verbally spar with his daughter about her fathers’ private bathroom sex time. Not just because it’s uncomfortable standing in a towel discussing private bathroom time; he’s pretty sure some of his brain leaked out through his dick onto Derek’s face. His head is still a bit fuzzy. “I think you need to look up the definition of private.”

“I know what private means,” Evie huffs.

“What?” Stiles challenges.

“I know, DD,” Gil answers instead. “It means alone, not for others. Just for you and Dad.”

Stiles points to Gil. “See? Even your six year old brother knows the definition.”

Derek kisses the side of Stiles’ head as he slips past and into their bedroom. He glances at the kids as he passes. “All three of you know better,” he says with a stern glare. Patrick looks down at his feet, ashamed, and Gil looks like he might cry. Evie is still unfazed.

“But Gil is starving, DD, I _swear_.”

“I don’t have to be a werewolf to know _that’s_ a lie,” Stiles says, crossing his arms and staring her down. “That’s pretty low, using your brother like that.”

“What else is a little brother good for?” she asks with a shrug.

“Don’t take that from her, tadpole,” Stiles says, ruffling Gil’s hair as he passes. 

“I don’t mind,” Gil says, hugging Evie’s arm to his side.

“Enjoy _that_ while it lasts,” Stiles says as he approaches the dresser.

“But I’m not really that hungry, DD.”

“All of you, out, now,” Derek says, pointing to the door. “Your father and I have to get dressed.”

“Then can we eat?” Evie asks, stomping her feet as she follows her brothers to the door.

“Go take out the steaks,” Derek instructs, “and pick a few vegetables.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Evie says as she slams the door shut behind them. 

Derek laughs at Stiles, who’s scowling into his underwear drawer. He tugs the edge of Stiles’ towel and it drops to the floor. Stiles glances over his shoulder as Derek slides his arms around Stiles’ waist, his soft cock fitting against Stiles’ ass as he nuzzles into Stiles’ neck. Stiles says, “Your daughter isn’t gonna be happy.”

“Don’t care,” Derek murmurs, lips dragging across Stiles’ skin. Stiles leans his weight back into Derek and closes his eyes. Then, Derek drops his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder and starts laughing.

Stiles’ eyes fly open. “What?”

“Evie. She says she can smell us getting distracted and to stop.”

“PRIVACY!” Stiles yells as he grabs underwear from the drawer. “Your daughter is a nosy little thing.”

“My daughter?” Derek asks as he slips into his boxer briefs.

“She’s a creepy stalker,” Stiles says as he puts on pajama pants. “Just like you used to be.”

“Shut up,” Derek replies without any real heat. After Stiles has dressed in a t-shirt and an old, worn hoodie, he wraps his arms around Derek’s neck. He combs his fingers through Derek’s hair, brushing along the edge of Derek’s hairline where it’s starting to go grey. 

“I love you,” Stiles says.

“I love you, too,” Derek says, smiling easily. He tilts his head to the side and snorts. “Evie says if we don’t come down, she’s gonna eat the meat raw.”

Stiles shakes his head with a laugh. “Go ahead,” he says, “Just don’t feed it to Gil.”

Derek listens for a moment, then turns his attention back to Stiles. “She’s complaining to them now.”

“I guess we should go feed our children.”

Derek nods. “Probably.” He kisses Stiles one last time, and then they leave the bedroom and head downstairs.

*

“But I don’t want to go,” Stiles says for the hundredth time. Derek glares over at him, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel.

“Will you please stop complaining?” he snaps. “I don’t want to go either. This was _your_ idea.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Stiles exclaims. “The entire PTA already thinks we’re weird, and not just because that one time Patrick started nuzzling a girl in class. Plus, we never get involved. Scott and Allison get involved, even Isaac and Sarah do. We are like the poster children of uninvolved dads.”

“Fuck the PTA,” Derek says. 

“I’m trying to be an involved parent,” Stiles continues, hands flailing around. “You know, go to meetings, volunteer, that kind of thing.”

“Then stop bitching.”

“I hate it, Dereeeeeeeek,” Stiles whines. “All those mothers look down on me because I’m not Betty Crocker or Mr. Mom or whatever.”

“All those moms think you’re hot and talk about your ass when you walk away,” Derek says.

“Shut up,” Stiles yells, slapping Derek on the arm. “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“I bet they think you’re hot, too,” Stiles says. “I mean, you’d have to be blind not to.”

“They have mentioned my ass a time or two.”

“It’s all those tight pants you wear,” Stiles says, glancing at Derek’s crotch. “And tonight’s a classic.” Stiles lifts his eyes to study Derek, and Derek stares straight ahead at the road. Then Stiles throws his head back and laughs. “Oh my _god_ ,” he laughs, “you like it! You like that they talk about your ass.”

“I do not,” Derek denies, his ears burning pink.

“You’re ridiculous,” Stiles chuckles, shaking his head. 

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Derek says. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Derek, please. Like you’re not still hotter than half the men on the earth.”

“Only half?”

“Derek…”

“Grey hair and wrinkles and all.”

“One, the grey in your hair and beard is sexy. _Fucking sexy._ Two, you barely have wrinkles. Three, when did you get self-conscious?”

“I’m not,” Derek growls, “but…I’m half human, okay? Sometimes getting older gets even to me.”

Stiles leans across the console and kisses Derek’s cheek. “First off, you’re only 46. Not old. Second, you’re still gorgeous.” He kisses Derek’s cheek again. “But you’re so much more than your looks, Derek.”

“I know.”

Stiles rolls his eyes fondly. “Guess I’ll just have to show you more often how sexy and perfect you are.”

“That might help.” Derek smirks.

Stiles kisses his cheek a third time and returns to his seat. “But first, we have to get through this PTA meeting.”

The meeting is in the high school library. The meeting doubles as a potluck dinner, so Derek carries their crockpot full of pulled pork down the hall. Stiles glances over at him, shaking his head and stifling a laugh. “What?” Derek asks.

“Derek Stilinski-Hale, mighty Alpha, carrying a crockpot.”

“Alphas gotta eat,” he says, smirking, and Stiles breaks into surprised laughter.

The mothers surround them when they enter, and Derek tries to block the noxious odor of their perfumes. They’re talking to Stiles about booster clubs and fall festivals and Christmas canned food drives. Derek slinks away from the group and goes towards the food table. He sets the crockpot on the table and tries to look innocuous without looking threatening. The Pack always tells him he doesn’t do non-threatening very well when he’s around other people.

“Derek Stilinski-Hale?” A man says as he walks over. “Patrick Stilinski-Hale’s father?”

“Yes,” Derek says and takes the proffered hand. The man’s grip is weak, and Derek dislikes him immediately. He just doesn’t like his general disposition.

“ _Be nice!_ ” he hears Stiles whisper, and he looks over to see Stiles watching him from where he’s talking in a circle of mothers.

“Henry Dryer,” the man introduces himself. “My son plays soccer with your son.”

“Oh, nice,” Derek nods. _Nice._ Stiles said to be nice. This is Derek, being nice.

“Patrick has a lot of potential,” Henry states. “He’s fast with quick reflexes. But he doesn’t seem as into it as the other boys. Gets a little distracted or bored even.”

“He’s fourteen,” Derek says flatly.

Henry looks taken aback, and Derek grins. _Nice._ Henry chuckles. “Yes, fourteen year old boys are quite the handful.”

“He’s more interested in lacrosse,” Derek continues. He’s making conversation. He wishes Stiles had werewolf hearing because this is fucking impressive. Derek Stilinski-Hale, making small talk at a PTA meeting. He deserves a blowjob or a rimjob for his efforts. 

“Lacrosse, ah,” Henry nods. He has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his khakis. His seafoam green polo is tucked into his khakis and he’s wearing loafers without socks. Actually, now that Derek thinks about it, most of the fathers here are wearing khakis, polos or button ups, and loafers. He glances at Stiles, who’s also wearing khakis (the same damn baggy pair he’s had for a decade that Derek has threatened to cut up a hundred times), a graphic tee, and a plaid shirt over it. Derek’s wearing black jeans, a maroon Henley, and his leather jacket. No one told him there was some father dress code. “Lacrosse is my son’s favorite sport. He’s really good.”

“Patrick’s good, too,” Derek says, finding himself needing to defend his kid. “His father played lacrosse for Beacon Hills, too, so both he and my daughter want to play.” This guy may have an athletically talented son, but Derek’s son was a werewolf. And top of his class, and athletic, and kind, and a natural born leader, and ten times the kid this dick Henry is going _on and on_ about.

Derek continues to make small talk with Henry, though he thinks getting stabbed with a wolfsbane-laced blade would be more enjoyable than this _or_ wearing loafers. The man has just finished bragging on his eldest son and is trying to get Derek to join the booster club when Derek feels a hand land on his shoulder. He immediately eases into the touch.

“Henry!” Isaac says, extending a hand. “Nice to see you.”

“You too,” Henry says, responding much more warmly to Isaac than he had to Derek. “How’s Nick? He ready for the season? Only a couple of months away. Can’t believe the state championship last year was just out of reach.”

“His mind’s on dating right now,” Isaac laughs. “Lacrosse is too far away for him to think about yet.” Isaac turns to Derek. “Have you been talking Henry’s ear off?” He smirks, and Derek glares at him. Maybe he’ll rip Isaac’s head off next time they spar in the forest. 

“I didn’t know you two were acquainted,” Henry says. “How do you two know each other?”

“Cousins,” Derek says, a hint of humor and sarcasm in his voice.

“There you are!” Scott exclaims. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Allison pulled me into some circle, and Stiles was there and wouldn’t let go of my arm, and I was not standing there listening to them discuss the theme for the fall festival, bro code or not.” Scott notices Henry, and extends his hand with a charming smile. “Henry. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” Henry returns the smile, and Derek wonders if he can disappear now. Isaac seems to sense this, though, and grabs onto his arm tightly. Derek growls so quietly only the wolves can here, and Isaac digs his fingers painfully into Derek’s arm.

When Henry finally stops talking to Scott (and _god_ , Derek thought Scott would never shut up), Isaac lets go of Derek’s arm and Derek glowers at them both. “I hate you both.”

“I’m glad we showed up when we did,” Isaac says, “because I’m pretty sure you were about to rip out that guy’s throat.”

“How can you stand this stuff?” Derek asks. “I don’t care about his kid. I only care about my kids. I only care about your kids because they’re part of my Pack.”

“Oh, the kids’ll feel so warm and loved when they hear that,” Isaac drawls.

“You know what I mean!”

“It’s not that bad,” Scott says, smiling easily. 

“Why don’t you run for the president of the PTA then?” Derek barks, and Isaac snorts. 

“Man, I expected you to be unpleasant, but you’re being a total dick tonight,” Scott replies. Derek flashes his eyes red, and Scott flashes his in response, and Isaac grabs them both on the shoulder and squeezes so hard Derek feels the bruise deep into his muscle. But it has its desired effect, and he and Scott blink, the red disappearing.

“Save the Alpha pissing contest when we’re not around humans, hmm?” Isaac murmurs.

Sarah appears then, frowning at them. “Can’t I leave you three alone without you causing problems?”

“It’s Derek’s fault,” Isaac says. “He’s pissy because he has to socialize.”

Derek growls. “I’m leaving.”

Sarah reaches out and grabs his arm in an iron grip. “If I have to endure this,” she growls, eyes flashing gold, “so do you.”

“Fine,” Derek snaps. “But you’re not leaving my side.”

“Deal.” She nods.

Scott and Isaac sigh in resignation. Isaac kisses Sarah on the cheek. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“I’m here,” she replies. “Don’t push your luck.”

“It’s a good thing I love this woman,” Isaac teases, and she laughs.

“Go,” she pushes him. “You and Scott go do your thing. Derek and I are gonna stand here and guard the food table.”

Isaac kisses her again, and then he and Scott go socialize. Derek stands at the end of the food table and crosses his arms. “How do you make it through one of these without tearing out someone’s throat?”

“Easy,” she says, pulling out her cell phone. “Solitaire.” When Derek glances helplessly at her phone, she slides it back into her pocket. “We could discuss books instead. We are in a library.”

“That’ll work.”

*

“Patrick, can you three _please_ lower your voices?” Stiles shouts from the driver’s seat. “I’m a human and you’re killing my ears.”

“Sorry,” the three boys say in unison. It’s Friday night, and they’re in the SUV, the family plus Josh and Ryan, Stiles driving them to the movies.

“Can I get candy at the movies?” Gil asks. “Lots of candy?”

“One thing,” Derek says, “and you only get a few pieces. It’s too late for you to eat too much sugar. You’ll be too hyper, get irritable, and not want to go to sleep.”

Gil shakes his head back and forth. “Na-ah, Daddy. I won’t get hyper, I promise. I’ll be really really good and watch the movie and everything.”

“Being a werewolf is so much cooler than being human,” Evie tells Gil. “I can eat as much candy as I want and it burns off almost immediately.”

“Think again,” Derek says, twisting in his seat. “You get one box, that’s it.” He points to the three boys huddled and laughing in the back seat. “That also goes for you three.”

“That’s not fair!” Evie yells.

“Volume!” Stiles exclaims. His head is killing him, and he hasn’t even gotten to the movie theater yet.

“Life’s not fair, kiddo.”

“You suck.”

Derek turns around again. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles. 

“Evie,” Derek says in warning. “That’s not the way you talk to us.”

“Fine! I’m sorry I said you suck.”

“Thank you. Watch your mouth next time.” Derek turns back around and slumps back into the seat. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, and Stiles feels him. And the night has just begun.

When they get to the theater, Stiles hands Patrick a twenty, and the three boys run off towards the ticket office. Derek helps Gil out of the car, and Stiles starts walking towards the front with Evie. “What do you want to see?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple things that look decent. Dad said I could pick our movie.”

“Pick something that won’t make him want to rip up the seats,” Stiles says, nudging her affectionately with his shoulder. “You know I don’t mind any movie you pick, but he’s a lot pickier.”

She turns and smiles at him. “Okay. Maybe I’ll get him to help me choose.”

“I think he’d probably like that a lot.”

The four of them are standing in front of the movie board, discussing options, when Evie lifts her nose, and Stiles knows that means she caught a scent. She inhales, and then she turns her head sharply. She moves between Derek and Stiles and stares very intently at the board.

“What is it, Evie?” Stiles asks.

Her mouth starts moving, but she’s speaking too quietly for Stiles to hear. He glances over at Derek, who’s watching her and nodding. When Derek looks up, he mouths _boy_. That’s all Stiles needs to know.

“Hey, Evie, why don’t you and Gil go pick out some candy? Get us some drinks to share, too.” Derek hands her his debit card, and she takes Gil’s hand and walks into the theater without looking back. 

“It’s that Stephen kid,” Derek whispers to Stiles as they walk up to the ticket window. “He’s here with the girl he’s taking trick-or-treating.”

“Oh,” Stiles says. He doesn’t turn around, though he wants to turn around and punch that kid in his punk ass face. How could anyone not like his daughter? She’s the greatest girl in the world.

They find Evie and Gil waiting by the entrance to the theater hall, arms full of drinks and candy boxes. Derek frowns when he sees Evie holding like four boxes of candy. “Evie, what did I say?”

“But Dad,” she whines, and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “Stephen is here with Jenny.”

Derek sighs, but nods, the big softy. Not that Stiles can say much. He would give her anything she wanted right now. “Fine,” Derek says, putting his arm around her. He gives her the movie ticket, and her face lights up.

“Really? But you hate romance movies.”

“This one looks okay.”

“I can hear you lying,” she says, but snuggles into his side. “Thanks.” Derek hugs her closer and kisses the top of her head. 

Stiles carries the soda cup in one hand, and holds Gil’s hand in his other. “What are we going to see, DD?” Gil asks.

“What do you think, buddy?” He hands Gil the ticket. “That new Pixar movie!” Gil starts shaking his arms in excitement, moving Stiles’ arm with him. 

Stiles lets Gil pick the seat, and Gil tells Stiles all about the aliens in the comic book Patrick showed him as they munch on Junior Mints during the preshow entertainment. Gil’s pretty quiet most of the time, but when he gets excited, he can rival his siblings with how much he talks.

“This movie’s about bears,” Gil says as the lights go down. “That’s kinda like wolves.”

“Kinda, yeah,” Stiles says quietly.

“Bears are big,” Gil says. 

“Yep.”

“Do you think Daddy could take down a bear?”

Stiles shushes him as the previews start. “You’re talking too loud. Gotta be quiet in the movies.”

Gil whispers, “Do you think Daddy could take down a bear?”

“I’ve seen him take down a bear.”

“When?” Gil shouts, and Stiles hurriedly shushes him again.

“I’ll tell you after the movie,” Stiles promises. “Let’s watch the movie now.”

“Hey DD,” Gil says a few minutes later. Stiles turns to him. “Thanks for letting me get Junior Mints. They’re my favorite.”

Stiles’ face melts into a smile. “I know. They’re one of my favorites, too.” Gil’s grin is blinding, and Stiles feels his chest nearly burst with emotion as he watches Gil pour some out into his palm and hand two to Stiles. Then he turns to the movie, all his attention focused on the screen. 

Stiles watches him for a few more minutes, then slides down into his seat to get more comfortable. Gil copies him, and Stiles bites his lip to keep from grinning.

*

Derek gets a call in the middle of the day from the elementary school. His adrenaline spikes immediately and he’s on alert, but he keeps himself in control.

“Mr. Stilinski-Hale? Gil won’t stop crying. We’re not sure why. He won’t talk to anyone, and he’s just sitting at his desk crying. We think you need to come pick him up.”

Stiles meets Derek at the elementary school. The moment Derek steps into the building, he can hear Gil’s cries and feel his distress. Stiles signs in with the front office while Derek makes his way towards Gil’s classroom as fast as he can without running. When he knocks on the door, the teacher gives him an apologetic smile and leads him over to Gil’s desk.

“Gil,” the teacher says, “Your dad is here.”

Gil lifts his head, his face red, eyes and face soaked with tears, snot coming out of his nose. Derek bends down as Gil runs to him and wraps his little arms around Derek’s neck. Derek stands and holds Gil close, and Gil clings to Derek and presses his wet, snotty face into the crook of his neck.

“I really don’t know what’s wrong,” the teacher says, and Derek can feel her anxiety coming off her in waves.

“Thank you for taking care of him until we got here,” Derek says with a smile. “I’m sorry about this.”

Derek sees Stiles standing in the doorway when he carries Gil out of the classroom. Stiles places a hand on Gil’s back and gives Derek a worried glance. In the parking lot, Derek doesn’t let go of Gil and gets into the back of the SUV. He tells Stiles they’ll come pick up the Camaro later, or get one of the Pack to grab it. He holds onto Gil, who hiccups and cries until he exhausts himself, then he falls asleep.

“What happened?” Stiles asks quietly as he drives.

“I don’t know.” Derek runs his hand down Gil’s back and over his hair, a constant soothing motion. “He’s not hurt physically. He just feels like distress. The teacher seemed to have no idea what was wrong, and he wouldn’t tell them anything.”

When they get home, Gil is still asleep, so they go upstairs to lay Gil into his bed. Derek lays him down as carefully as he can, but Gil’s eyes open up as Derek’s placing him on the mattress.

“Hey tadpole,” Stiles says with a smile. He runs a hand over his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Derek sits on the edge of the bed, and Gil’s eyes water again and he starts sniffling. Derek’s brow creases with worry. “Gil, what is it?”

Stiles sits down by Gil’s head and drapes his arm along the pillow above Gil’s head. “You can tell us whatever upset you. No matter what.”

Gil bites his lip and grabs the edge of the blanket beside him. Tears start falling again, and Stiles grabs Gil and pulls him into a hug. “Shh, baby, don’t cry,” Stiles coos against his hair. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

Derek feels helpless. He hates this. No matter how many times he goes through this, nothing is worse than being unable to do anything while your kid cries. He reaches out and places a hand on Gil’s leg.

Gil lifts his head and wipes his nose with the back of his arm. There’s snot smeared on his face and his shirt, which probably matches the snot crusted on Derek’s neck. He walks over to the tissues on the dresser and brings them back to the bed to gently wipe off Gil’s face. 

“They said you’re monsters,” Gil blurts, then he starts crying uncontrollably again.

Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Tadpole, what are you talking about?” Stiles asks. “Hey, hey, look at me. It’s okay. Who said who were monsters?”

“We were talking about Halloween and they were talking bout monsters, and they said vampires and zombies and ghosts and…” Gil pauses and Derek feels his stomach drop. “ _Werewolves_.” He turns his face into Stiles’ shirt and starts crying again.

“Oh Gil,” Derek says, scooting closer on the bed so he can run his hands along Gil’s arms and back. Gil twists and throws himself against Derek, curling his fists into Derek’s jacket as he presses his face into Derek’s neck. Derek holds him tightly, and Stiles curls his hand around Gil’s neck. When Derek looks at Stiles, he can see tears in his eyes. “Gil, it’s okay.”

“But they said werewolves are mean and eat people and are scary and are monsters,” Gil sobs against Derek’s skin.

“Hey,” Derek says, bouncing him slightly. “Hey, look at me.” Gil lifts his head, and Derek takes the tissue and wipes the tears from his cheeks and the snot from his nose. “There’s no need for all this, sweetheart.”

“But they said – “

“We know,” Stiles says, moving to sit beside Derek so he can face Gil. “They said werewolves were monsters.”

“I couldn’t tell them they were wrong and they were the meanies,” Gil says miserably, “because the most important rule ever is never ever tell anyone that Daddy, Patrick, and Evie are werewolves.”

“That was very brave,” Stiles says, cupping Gil’s cheek. “It’s really hard to keep a secret when people are being unfair or untruthful.”

“There was a picture book,” Gil says, staring at the zipper on Derek’s jacket. He reaches out and starts fingering it distractedly. “And there were lots of monsters, and the werewolves were big and angry and trying to eat people. They had big teeth – bigger than even Daddy’s – and mean eyes.” He glances up at Derek with watery eyes, and Derek feels his heart shatter into ten thousand pieces. “Why do they hate wolfies so much?”

Derek shares a look with Stiles. He’s at loss with how to even approach this. Gil is only six; how do you explain the history of werewolves with a six year old?

“You know how we have to keep Daddy, Patrick, and Evie’s secret super safe, no matter what?” Stiles starts. Gil nods. “Well, it’s because not everyone likes wolfies like we do.”

Gil wipes his nose again. “But why? Wolfies are the best. And not just Daddy, Patrick, and Evie. I love all the wolfies in the Pack, and they love me.”

Stiles nods. “Yep, they sure do. They love you very much, and we love them very much. But not all humans understand this.” Stiles taps Gil on the nose, and Gil smiles. 

“Lots of people don’t like werewolves,” Derek explains. “And there are a lot of mean, bad werewolves, just like there are lots of mean, bad humans.”

“But you’re not bad,” Gil says. “You’re fluffy.”

Derek smiles. “When I’m a wolf, yes, I’m fluffy.”

“All the wolfies are fluffy when they shift,” Gil says, reaching out to tap Derek on his cheek. Derek shifts, his face contorting as his cheeks sprout fur. Gil pets it softly. “You’re not scary or mean.” Derek leans forward and nuzzles into his face, and it lessens some of Gil’s sadness.

“Why did you cry so much?” Stiles asks as Derek lets his face shift back to normal.

“I kept thinking about Daddy and Patrick and Evie being monsters and,” Gil’s lips start to wobble again. “And I kept thinking that I’m half wolfie too, so that means I’m half a monster and – “ Gil starts crying again, and Derek and Stiles crowd him as they try to comfort him.

“Don’t ever think you’re a monster,” Stiles murmurs against his hair. “There’s not a bad bone in your body, wolf or not. You’re amazing, and good, and sweet, just like your siblings and your dad and the rest of the Pack. Being a wolf doesn’t make anyone a monster,” Stiles adds quietly.

Derek holds Gil as Stiles explains Halloween, werewolves, and as much context as is appropriate for a six year old. Gil is still pretty confused when he’s finished, but he doesn’t feel as distressed and doesn’t seem like he’s going to start crying again.

When the conversation is over, Stiles says, “I think you need a nap, tadpole. You tuckered yourself out.”

Gil looks up at Derek. “Will you nap with me? I…” He stares again at Derek’s jacket. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t need to for Derek to know what he’s asking. Derek needs to be close to him, too.

“Of course,” Derek says, “But can we do it in my bed? Your bed isn’t exactly Daddy-sized.”

“I’m napping, too,” Stiles says. “If I’m taking the day off, and you two are napping, I’m gonna enjoy it.”

Derek carries Gil into his bedroom and drops him into the center of their bed. Stiles removes Gil’s shoes while Derek sheds his jacket and goes into the bathroom to wipe down his neck. He strips out of his shirt and pants and pulls on basketball shorts before slipping between the covers. Gil is already snuggled beside Stiles, wearing only his Superman briefs. His back is pressed against Stiles’ chest, and Stiles has one arm draped over him. Derek scoots closer to them once he’s in bed, crowding Gil between them. He kisses Gil’s forehead, and Gil smiles at him.

“Feel better?” Derek asks.

Gil nods. “You’re not a monster, Daddy. You’re the best dad in the world.” Derek smiles as Gil looks over his shoulder at Stiles. “You’re also the best dad in the world.” Stiles kisses Gil, then settles against the pillow. Derek lays an arm across both of them and closes his eyes, lulled to sleep by the comfort in their scents.

*

“Again,” Derek says, and Evie and Patrick groan.

“I don’t want to train anymore,” Patrick complains. 

“I want to eat my Halloween candy,” Evie says. “And play games.”

“You can in a little bit,” Derek says. “You know the routine. One hour of training five times a week.”

“Being a werewolf sucks,” Patrick grumbles. He points to where Stiles and Gil are sitting on a blanket, playing with one of Gil’s playsets. “Gil doesn’t have to train.”

“His day will come,” Derek says. “But he won’t have your healing, so he’ll have to deal with bruises for a lot longer.” Derek hooks an arm around Patrick’s neck and ruffles his hair. “Now stop complaining and attack your sister.”

“Our lives are so weird,” Evie says as she wolfs out, eyes gold and face sprouting fur, as she runs at Patrick with her claws. Derek chuckles as he watches them, yelling out pointers and commands. Their form and technique is a work in progress, but he’s pretty pleased anyway.

When they’re finished, they drop panting onto the blanket, bruises and scratches healing and leaving dried blood on their skin. Derek sits down behind Stiles and kisses his cheek. 

“Does this mean we can play games now?” Evie asks from where she’s sprawled behind Gil.

“Sure,” Stiles says. “What are we playing?”

“Life? Sorry? Rummy?” Gil asks excitedly. 

“All three,” Evie says with a grin. She leaps to her feet and kicks Patrick. “Race you home.” She takes off into the woods. He jumps up, shifting and carefully but quickly picking up Gil. He puts Gil on his back, who wraps his arms and legs around Patrick. “Hold on tight, tadpole,” Patrick says and disappears through the woods.

“Ready for a night of board games?” Stiles asks as he gets to his feet. 

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulls him close. “My family used to play board games all the time,” he says quietly, a small smile on his face. “Laura loved them. So did my dad.”

Stiles grins. “Then I’m glad we’re keeping up the Hale tradition.” He kisses Derek. In the distance, they hear two distinct howls. Derek lifts his face and howls in return.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> come flail with me about sterek on [tumblr!](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com/)


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